


Failing Crops

by Arinkia



Category: Cars (Movies), Planes (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, I'm decending to hell, M/M, Some bonding, They have twins!, several OCs - Freeform, tags will be added as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arinkia/pseuds/Arinkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dry, hot summer leaves Propwash Junction scrambling as much of the crops die. Between his racing career, volunteer firefighting, navigating the trials of parenthood and increasing threats from Ripslinger; Dusty finds himself stepping up to help the small community at the risk of burning himself out both mentally and physically.</p><p>Skipper never bargained that his life would turn out like the way it has as he faces his resurfacing demons and, surprisingly, genealogists. It's never a dull moment with his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failing Crops

**Author's Note:**

> Lo and behold I'm terrible and started a new story. 
> 
> I don't own planes, don't sue me.
> 
> I really want to make this note longer but I'm functioning on three hours of sleep and we all know the product of _that_.
> 
> Enjoy and I'll fix mistakes as soon as I see them and be aware that the rating may change at a later date.

It was the dead of summer and one of the hottest in recent years. The fields surrounding Propwash Junction were becoming dry and listless and despite the almost religious spraying of mini-mulch and water from Leadbottom and his gaggle of workers, it was predicted that much of the corn would die. The small town was now facing the possibility of filing a disaster claim to the Government, without the sale of corn Propwash Junction would be facing a very tough winter with little money and fuel. It was currently the reason why Skipper found himself outside his hanger alone with the twins mewling and puttering around his landing gear, several parts curious and scared at the gathering of dark clouds that hovered over the edge of the horizon.

With all the fame and money gained from his racing career Dusty had never entertained the idea of moving somewhere that was actually on a map. He felt at home here, his friends and family were here and despite being a naturally friendly and outgoing plane he would find himself emotionally burned out after the racing season. You could only greet so many fans before it became too much and he no intentions of turning out like Ripslinger who only acknowledged his more famous and rich fans. 

The figure head of Propwash, no one ever really called him mayor because of how small the town was, had called the more affluent members of the community to come to a meeting to discuss the situation of the failing corn crop. Dusty and Skipper had both been called to attend though Skipper declined to go with due the fact that there was no one available to watch the twins if they both went. Chug and Dottie had left Propwash several days ago on a supply run and weren’t due to return for a few more days and while Sparky had proven that he adored the twins he was in no way prepared to watch nor control them. While one twin was guaranteed to behave the other was capable of running circles around whoever they were left with almost a maniac glee. The twin Corsairs might look identical but their temperaments were wildly different and could be called crazy in a hand basket when riled up. 

The old war bird shifted carefully and watched as the dark clouds rolled slowly closer. A green tinge had occurred and the rumbling sound of distant thunder could almost be felt through the air. The wind brought the stiff smell of rain and something a little more dangerous. The green tint was something Skipper hadn’t seen in a long time but he reminded himself that he was currently in Iowa, a state that happened to be in Tornado Alley and that there hadn’t been a tornado sighted near Propwash Junction in almost a decade. 

A loud screech sounded from below him as one of twins came whizzing out from under him with an almost betrayed expression before he noticed the older plane gazing down at him with a soft smile. The hurt look dropped almost immediately and the little Corsair began to chirp rapid fire like at Skipper and circled his right landing gear at top speed. A quick look and feel beneath him revealed that the calmer of the two had taken up residence dead center between his front landing gear with an almost smug grin on his face. Skipper simply concluded that Val, the calmer twin, had bitten Valk when he began to play a little too rough for Val’s liking.

The thunder was growing louder and there was still no sign of Dusty. Valk’s rapid chirping had died down as the sound of thunder rolled over them. The hyperactive twin began to creep out from under his Sire’s bulk to see where the sound had come from and Val had gotten up onto his landing gear but had yet to venture out from under Skipper. The storm had indeed come closer in the few minutes that he took to watch the twins as Valk’s curiosity was greeted by a blinding flash of light and a much stronger boom of thunder. Valk screamed in fear and dove under Skipper with enough force to knock over Val who proceeded to roll several times due to his folded wings. Val, true to his nature, simply grunted as his rolls stopped until he landed back on his gear and under Skipper’s left wing. A swift, full body shake later and Val calmly rolled himself back to his spot and puffed into Valk’s face. The hyper twin squealed and began to lick and slobber over Val’s face and undeveloped prop in joy before screaming again when another flash and boom ripped through the sky.

A brief scan of the runway and surrounding area failed to spot Dusty’s bright red and white paint job and Skipper was forced to admit defeat. It had been his plan to wait till Dusty got back from the meeting before ushering the twins inside of the hanger for the rest of the day. But with the storm gaining power and strength and with the twins just past their first year of life it wasn’t safe for them to be out in heavy rain. 

The only warning he gave them was to start moving toward the open hangar doors. Valk let out one of his squawks as the older plane moved on and the tiny Corsair trundled to keep up with his faster father. Skipper glanced behind him incase Dusty made an appearance only to see that Val had remained behind in his spot, small wings folded up as he stared unflinchingly toward the horizon as the storm made its approach. 

Valk chittered as he glanced back and forth between parent and sibling before belting out louder warbles and chirps to get his twin’s attention or maybe wondering to himself about what had gotten his sibling to remain on the tarmac and away from the safety that was their father. Val tore his eyes away from the nearly black horizon and finally made his way to the hanger where he made a beeline to one of his favorite chew toys that had been forgotten on the floor earlier in the day. Skipper once again chuckled at his near fearless chick and his preference of toys that had bells on them. It was quickly becoming the only the way to find the stoic and silent chick as Val kept his vocalizations to a minimum and his twin couldn’t always be counted on to seek out his often disappearing sibling.

 _Dusty had the right idea of naming them_. The older Corsair plopped himself down the soft sleeping mat to watch the twins play tug of war with a bell laden chew shaped like a wrench. It had been one of their bigger arguments; it was something he wasn’t entirely proud of but when he had first heard the names Dusty had sprung up with he felt his inner workings nearly freeze. Valiant and Valkyrie. Names bogged down by meaning and almost too heavy sounding for chicks of any age, Skipper could vaguely remember those two names being used as code words to describe a handful of planes back during his service. Those planes didn’t last very long as they were almost always shuttled to the front lines. It brought back painful memories.

Needless to say Skipper deeply regretted his outburst when the newborn twins began crying at his raised voice and Dusty’s conflicted face as he chased a fuming Skipper out of the hangar, torn between protecting his newborns and wanting to confront and calm his mate. Skipper hadn’t given him a choice as he quickly and in shame gunned it down the runway and took off. He had fumed for hours in the air and only returned to land due to running empty. Dottie and Sparky had been quick to meet him and got an earful from both about his behavior. The worst was when he poked into his hangar to see that Dusty had cried himself to sleep, laying so that his tail was to the doors and laying protectively over the twins.

It had taken weeks for Dusty to forgive him and longer for him to admit why he was upset with the names. By the time the drama had settled and the two reconciled, the twins were over a month old and responding with some degree to their names. Dusty and Skipper had an agreement to only use full names when the two got into some form of trouble and that Dusty himself had no problem to the shorten versions of both. Val and Valk, the two little Corsair twins. 

Nearly two hours later and finally, _finally_ , Dusty returned home soaked to his struts and shivering as the raging wind and rain outside howled. The piercing sound of the storm that had once been soften by the walls of hangar now roared to full volume and before Dusty could shut the doors behind him the dozing twins snapped awake to different results. Val reared quickly up on his wheels, eyes blown wide as he shivered in place. Valk had exploded violently with screams and squawks and in his panic flipped himself out of the nest to the hard floor below while striking Skipper in the corner of his mouth. The cries of fear soon turned to ones of pain and not even a few seconds later Dusty had already rolled up to the screaming bitlit. 

“Oh, oh it’s ok Valky! It’s just rain, shh.” A couple of nudges and licks to the bitlit were enough to right and calm him down. Dusty cooed lowly, licking with some more vigor before gently gripping the little Corsair with his teeth and depositing the now happily chirping twin with the other. The siblings cuddled up with each other, pressing up against Skipper’s side as the thunder rumbled and rain pattered on the metal roof.

“How did the meeting go? Ran pretty long, was wondering if you were going to come back tonight.” Skipper asked softly, noting that Dusty had yet to join them in the overstuffed nest and wincing as a dull pain pinched his mouth from Valk’s flailing. Dusty nuzzled the twins before turning to the navy Corsair and huffing. “Well, not good I guess. The visiting botanist said the rain came a little too late. He thinks we lost about three fifths of the fields, very little is good for fuel even if it grows some more.” The small plane wouldn’t look him in the eyes and simply pressed himself as close as he could to his mate while being on the outside of the nest.

“Something of a disaster for Propwash, no? I don’t see why they really needed you there, other than asking for mon-…” Skipper trailed off and set his gaze on his suddenly demur mate. “Dusty, kid, they asked for money didn’t they?” The racer backed away from him, eyes threatening to pour over with tears and small tiny shivers were visible in his wings. 

“Y-yeah, they did. B-but they think that the relief won’t be enough and it’s just until next year and they just want a small fund to help the families that can’t afford the fuel and its gunna be a bad winter and I feel really bad and I don’t want the kids to suffer or-” The small plane was practically hyperventilating before being cut off by a deep kiss from Skipper, tongue and teeth scrapping against his lips as the navy Corsair hummed against him. “Dusty you won your money, you’re free to do whatever you want with it. You do whatever feels right.”

Dusty, as it turned out, was something of a hoarder when it came to money. While it was known that crop dusters weren’t swimming in cash to any degree, Dusty often got flustered and embarrassed whenever he bought something expensive for himself with his winnings but on the flip side was more than happy to fling his money around for his family and friends. Skipper chuckled to himself when he recalled the shopping splurge that his mate went on several months before the twins were born. He still had no idea on what to do with all the extra pillows and blankets but with the way the twins were developing the oodles of extra padding were going to come in handy, especially for Valk. 

The small racer seemed to also be fond of hiding small wads of cash around the several hangars that they both owned and Skipper was also pretty damn sure that Dusty had hidden money pits in the surrounding forest. While he was guaranteed to find one of the squirreled away piles in the hangars with minimal effort he had yet to have any luck in finding Dusty’s buried money pits. It had turned into a sort of game for him when his little red and white mate went off to rallies, competitions and the occasional stint of firefighting. It was something to occupy the long hours alone and now that the twins were old enough to follow behind him he now had an extra pair of eyes to help with the search. Skipper was not going to rest until he found one of the pits and damn Dottie and Sparky for thinking him paranoid. He knew Dusty had buried money, the smiles and dirt covered wheels were more than enough to tip him off.

“You’re ok with it? Really?” Skipper nodded before latching onto a wing to pull Dusty into the nest. “As long as you leave some for us to live on you do whatever want.” Dusty mumbled something under his breath before moving to make himself comfortable and sandwiching the twins between the both of them. The small plane buried his nose under Skipper’s and drifted off to sleep as the sounds of the storm mingled with the soft chirps and sighs of the twins carried by the undertones of Skipper’s powerful engine, an impromptu lullaby that was his alone as his family hunkered down to wait out the raging storm.


End file.
